Always Darkest Before The Dawn
by A Brighter Darkness
Summary: Hermione lives through a hell at the hands of a man she thought she loved far from anyone that she'd once known. When she's forced to do the unthinkable, she returns home to London determined to make up lost time. Will he ever stop haunting her? *Trigger Warnings in several chapters!* Non-Compliant post-OoTP. Gradual H/Hr. Edited and Reloaded! Please read AN on the first Chapter!
1. Prologue

**!Very Important Author's Note!****: **

**First and foremost: HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**It has been a while since I've been able to actively work on this story and I want to apologize right up front for seemingly abandoning it. To be honest, things have been very rough for me over the last two years. I've spent much of that time battling severe depression, anxiety and PTSD from MST (I'll define that if you need me to but…). I also have a little girl of my own now. I've transitioned from military to civilian life as well as started school and a new job. Needless to say, I've got a lot of balls in the air right now.**

**Additionally, if you've read this story before, you'll notice that I have gone through and made some edits and cleaned up the story a bit. I don't have a beta so I rely on my own ability to read and reread my work to improve it as I go. That being said, I very much appreciate any and all constructive critiques and criticisms. I strive to use each of them to improve my writing ability, so keep them up!**

**This will be a very gradual H/Hr story. This first chapter will be dark and the things that Hermione is going through make it very impractical to have her jump into romantic relationships straight away. **

**Finally, I began writing this story shortly after the release of OotP and I'm pretty happy with where it stands currently. Therefore, it will be considered AU after that point. Unfortunately, as much as I hate it, Sirius is still beyond the veil. There is one OC character that plays a significant role in this story but his significance wanes as the story goes on.**

_**********TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: This chapter does involve physical abuse and hints at sexual abuse!*************_

**Disclaimer: Anything that you recognize, I don't own. I write purely for fun and not for profit of any kind!**

**Now that I've put my words out there, I'll free you from my annoying chatter and get on with the story!**

**Prologue**

_**December**_

_The fireplace. _

_That was the one thing she'd loved the most when she decided to move into this place that was so far away from the home she knew. So warm and inviting. That was the biggest selling point for Hermione Granger. It wasn't England. It wasn't even Europe. But it was where she'd begun to call home. She loved being able to curl up on her couch in front of a warm fire with a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hands and a good book opened on the arm of the couch so she could read with ease. Just as she had been doing before her mind began wandering down a different path._

_It had been almost three years since the downfall of Voldemort at the hands of her best friend, Harry Potter. The now 20-year old witch stared into the fire as her mind relived that final battle._

_It'd begun the day that they were due to graduate their final year at Hogwarts. It was the warmest day they'd had so far in the middle of June. It should have been a day of excitement, happiness, and celebration, but instead everyone who prepared to cross the stage and accept their certificate of graduation was also prepared to fight a war to defend everything and everyone that they knew and loved. Rather than being armed with smiles and friendship, they were armed with wands and determination to defend the ones they loved._

_That was a lot of weight on the shoulders of a group of 17 year old witches and wizards. A group that had seen far more in their young years than many of their parents would have cared to admit. They were young, but innocent they no longer were._

_The aptly nicknamed 'Golden Trio', consisting of Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood at the head of the group. Their senses had been so alert and instead of the excitement they should have been feeling, they were more anxious than anything else. _

_Outside the tent that held the graduates, members of the Order of the Phoenix had scattered themselves amongst the crowd. Despite the terrifying number of battles that scarred the heart of each individual involved, their numbers had held strong and multiplied as people sought vengeance of their lost loved ones and sought a final end to the war that had ripped their lives to pieces, not once but twice._

_The procession started exactly at noon, exactly as it had been scheduled. Impending battle did not throw Hogwarts off its precise schedule. Names were called in alphabetical order and everyone waited on bated breath as each graduate crossed the stage and accepted their certificates, exhaling heavily when their feet were back on the ground._

"_Hermione Granger, Class Valedictorian, Acceptance to St. Mungo's Apprenticeship Program."_

_She'd gathered herself and climbed the stage to accept her own certificate as well as the acknowledgement of her accomplishments. She was shaking the hands of her Head of House, Professor McGonagall when said witch knocked her, now former, student to the ground as a red jet of light narrowly missed the pair of witches._

_And so it began._

_The final battle that they'd all been waiting for began then as they'd attempted to take out one of Harry Potter's right hand people. Everything was immediately in an uproar. Wands appeared out of apparently nowhere. The stage and the seats disappeared. Professors and senior students ushered the younger students back to the safety of the castle while the graduates and Order members gathered for what would be an eventful but fulfilling day._

_Mad-Eye Moody, even with his unfailing belief in constant vigilance was the first to fall that fateful day. Others fell shortly behind him, including Cho Chang, Padma Patil, everyone's beloved Tonks, and Dennis Creevy._

_Towards the end, Hermione stood back to back with Ron, each throwing curse after curse in the direction of the never ending numbers of Death Eaters. It wasn't until an outcry drew her attention, did Hermione realize that Harry had finally come to the final confrontation with his Dark wizard counterpart. Hermione shuddered at the sight of the dark wizard that had been the cause of so much death and destruction._

_She grabbed Luna, who stood next to her, and put her behind Ron, not wanting to leave either of her friends without cover. As soon as that was done she'd darted across the grounds, jumping over limp and still bodies. Whether they were dead or just unconscious she didn't know, nor did she care, her only concern at the current moment was to get to her best friend's side, where she belonged._

_She skidded to a halt just feet from where the battle was brewing between the two wizards. Harry's energy and strength were already waning and whatever spell Voldemort had sent to him was not meant to kill, only to play. The bastard was only toying with him until the younger man had no more strength or will to fight. Hermione watched as Harry fell backwards onto the ground._

_With a surge of energy of her own, she rushed forward behind her best friend and scooped him up to where he was leaning his back against her chest. _

"_Hermione, get out of here," he'd said trying to push her away, "I can't hold him back from you I can't win this."_

"_Harry, be strong, we all have faith in you, even if you don't have faith in yourself. I've got you, as I always have," she's whispered urgently into his ear, grasping his hand tightly and letting him brace himself off of her. "You're not alone."_

_She'd felt him tense in determination and she helped him to his feet. When they were both standing again, she stood at his back, giving him whatever strength she could. Carefully, she pried his wand from his tensed fingers and at his worried and curious gaze, "You can't win with your wand, Harry. Not if he's carrying his," she whispered as she pressed her own wand into his hands. "Take mine, end this Harry. I'm right here behind you."_

_Something she couldn't explain crossed through his green eyes as he gave her a grateful smile, "Thank you, 'Mione." It was only a matter of a half hour later and the Dark Lord, Voldemort himself, lay dead at Harry's feet. As soon as the Dark Wizard had fallen to the ground, angry cries were heard around the grounds, as Death Eaters came to the realization that their leader was gone. _

_How do you kill a snake? Cut off the head and the rest will follow. _

_The remainder of the Order members rounded up what remained of the Death Eaters who hadn't managed to apparate as soon as they learned of their leader's demise. Everyone had already begun celebrating. And mourning._

_But Hermione stayed where she was, with Harry. He'd moved to lean against her as she took her wand back and flicked it briefly, setting the remains of the dark wizard to flames. Burning whatever darkness was left in the empty, soulless, body._

_As soon as the remains started to burn, Harry collapsed and Hermione caught him, lowering him slowly to the ground and holding on to him. "Are you alright?"_

_He smiled faintly, "Never better."_

"_Good," she'd smiled, giving him a hug that he returned. "Go ahead and rest for now, everyone's going to want to talk your ear off later, so take what you can get."_

_Hermione blinked back to the present. She'd left her place defending Ron's back to cover Harry's. Why? She couldn't let him face his nightmare alone. Granted, he'd always told them that it was his fight and that he, alone, should bear the burden. But that'd never stopped her before? Why should she have let it stop her from being at his side when it mattered most?_

"_Hermione?"_

_The sudden voice in her quiet home made her jump. She hadn't even heard the front door open, she must have really been deep in thought. Hermione shook herself mentally as her gaze lifted to meet the eyes of the speaker. A warm smile crossed her face, "Good morning, Daniel."_

_The wizard smiled brightly at her and took his seat next to her on the couch. She'd actually met him a few days after that final battle. He'd been an Order member who'd been sent abroad, working with Charlie Weasley at the dragon reserve in Romania. He had returned upon hearing of the battles probable end. They'd talked through letters and chance meetings for two years and had begun dating for almost nine months before he'd convinced her to move to Colorado with him. That was back in April. It was now just days before Christmas. She'd already been here for seven months. Had it really been that long?_

_Since she left she hadn't heard from anyone. Not from Ron. Not from Ginny. Not even from Harry. It stung. But she knew none of them had ever really liked Daniel. They couldn't explain why, they all just said that he gave them an 'odd feeling'. She figured the fact that she left everything for the person that they didn't like, left them with a bitter taste towards her. That, however, did little to ease the sting of their silence._

"_How's your day going?" the wizard asked looking from her to her books, to the fire and back again. He too was a muggleborn, making his transition to the hustle and bustle of the American west that much easier. There was still a faint tint of his English accent in his voice but his accent had mostly become as Americanized as his home and his ways._

"_It was good, I just read for the most part," Hermione smiled. "I sent a few letters out to Harry and the Weasleys, wishing them a Happy Christmas. I know they haven't shown desire to speak to me, but I still have to try to keep conversation going."_

_He nodded slightly, "I hope they don't disappoint you like they did on your birthday. If they do, you still got me, right?"_

"_Right," she said with a smile that only barely covered the sting that the thought of her forgotten birthday brought._

_Their conversations had grown light and casual, but not so much uncomfortable, during the few months that they'd lived together. He knew she missed her home, no matter how hard she tried to hide it behind a smile. She knew he knew, and she knew that's why he'd started changing. They were happy though. So she kept her smile and kept her memories in check and lived a normal life in the American West. Just what she wanted right? A warm home with a man who loved her and nothing more of the war to worry about?_

_**April**_

"_Hermione!" his voice was no longer warm and loving but cold and demanding. His actions had lost their tender and caring touch and turned harmful and controlling as it bellowed through their home-turned-prison. "Hermione, where are you!"_

_They're neighbors were gone for the Easter holiday. From what she noticed they were the only one's __**not**_ _leaving for the holiday. They wouldn't hear the commotion. Even if they had and they called the Police, he always managed to find a way to convince them that all was well and send them on their way._

_Hermione kept herself hidden, huddled beneath the long, flowing table cloth that covered they're three legged corner table in they're bedroom. Her mouth was clamped shut to keep her whimper from drawing his attention._

_She couldn't pinpoint when things had taken this turn. Everything was great and then one day, as though someone had flipped a switch, things changed. __**He**__ changed. It started with just sharp and cruel words and it grew to this. Her hiding from his dangerous and painful hands._

_A squeak of fear slipped from her lips as the curtain was lifted and a hand knotted in her long curly hair, dragging her from her hiding place. "Now, what good did that do you, huh? What did I tell you about hiding from me? It doesn't help you, bitch. It only makes me that much more pissed off," he growled as he wrenched her head back._

"_I'm sorry," she whimpered, eyes opened wide in fear._

"_I don't think you are, but I know that you will be," He said, simply but darkly. "I'm going out. When I come back, we'll discuss what your punishment will be. You and I both know this isn't the worst thing you've done this week. You and I both know that I've let you get away with way too much this week." Hermione trembled in fear and swallowed thickly. "What will be done by the time I get home, Hermione?"_

"_Laundry will be washed, dried, and folded a-and, dinner w-will be ready," she said quietly._

"_Exactly. Don't disappoint me, Hermione, you've already got a lot coming to you tonight, don't make it worse on yourself," Daniel stated. With that he let go of her knotted hair and left the room, closing the door with a 'click'. The woman in question collapsing to her knees with muffled sobs escaping from behind the trembling hand that was pressed firmly to her mouth._

_**October**_

_Things hadn't gotten any better. Hermione reflected back on that day that things started going downhill faster than any day previous to it. She hadn't gotten laundry done. She'd burnt dinner. Work had gotten him so worked up, he was on the verge of being laid off at only a moment's notice. He'd very nearly killed her that night._

_Six months had passed since then. He'd not gotten laid off. She'd tried to leave him twice. It only lasted as far as the front door before he had her pinned to the wall. He'd made it up to her well enough though. He'd bought her enough pretty things to make the most high-maintenance British Pureblood happy. He always made her look like a princess when they went out among his friends. _

_She knew it was no real way to live but…after two years, where else did she have to go? She couldn't just leave and expect to be welcomed back by those she'd abandoned. So she accepted the gifts along with the pain and she just lived as she knew._

_There were days when, for no apparent reason, he'd come in from the other room in such a fury. She never knew what sparked his anger on those days, but she found out quickly not to ask either. The one time that she did, she had heard muttered words about "magic" and "owls". Her wand had been taken from her back in March, she'd not been allowed to perform magic in at least that long, so she wasn't sure what any of that had to do with her. But it didn't seem to matter. It never did._

_One night, after she'd finished dinner and dishes and the rest of the normal cleaning routine, she curled on the floor in front of the fire, drawing comfort and warmth from the dancing flames. She heard the door to his office slam open and she cringed, but knowing what was coming, she knew better than to move._

_It wasn't until hands tangled in her knotted mass of curls and jerked her upright that she lifted her gaze to him. He had four envelopes in his hands and glowered darkly at her, "When have you been writing them?" He barked._

"_W-write who?" she asked, eyes wide. Who did he think she'd been writing? She jerked sharply when the back of his hand collided with her face sending her one direction while his other hand held her by her hair._

"_Now is __**not**__ a time to play stupid with me, Hermione. Your friends. When did you write them? When did you write Potter? I thought I told you to stay out of my office," he said, his grip on her hair became extremely painful._

"_I…I haven't. I haven't heard from or spoken to Harry or anyone else in over a year," Hermione cried out. He jerked her head again trying to draw the truth from her. "I swear I haven't."_

_Daniel's eyes narrowed and he studied her before throwing the envelopes into the flickering flames, which engulfed them immediately, "See those, Hermione? Eventually, they're going to forget you exist. Better yet, they're going to hate you for abandoning them."_

_She blinked back tears as she stared at the burning letters. Harry had tried to contact her? Four times? They still thought about her! Her heart swelled as tears streamed down her face. To Daniel, it would look as though she were finally giving up the last broken piece of her. To Hermione, it was solidifying her resolve to at least try and find a way out of this mess._

_She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as the second, third and fourth blow shook her to her core. She cried out and moaned and groaned in all the right times and places but her body was numb, she no longer felt the pain that he caused her. The crack of each broken bone rattled her ears, the blow that caused each heavy and deep bruise shook her frame but none of the pain registered in her mind. Six months or more of this brought her to a point where she just…was. She didn't exist. She didn't' feel. She just was._

_When her body would finally have enough of the battery, all would fade to black and she would be in peace at last. He always stopped one she passed out. He'd stop and usually leave for the rest of the night. Probably to the homes of one of his many mistresses. Hermione didn't care where he left to, only that he was gone._

_It was only about a half an hour after the most recent rounds of assault that she regained consciousness. She shifted to sit up and whimpered, she may not feel the attack, but she always felt the aftermath. She let out a breath sharply and clenched her jaw as she slowly got to her feet. A streak of determination that she'd not felt since that last battle struck her deep in her core and she straightened her shoulders as she'd not done in years._

_She hesitated as she reached the door to his office. She'd always abided by his rules about the office, but right now she didn't care. She'd already taken the beating for something she'd not done, so she may as well do it now. With a burst of courage she pushed the door open and entered. She stood motionless in the middle of the room for a moment, halfway expecting him to rush in and finish what he'd started earlier. _

_After a few quiet moments, she looked around curiously. She paced around for a moment before stopping at a closet. She paused momentarily before pulling the door open. It was filled with a few boxes, each with her own handwriting labeling the contents. The one on the top shelf was simply labeled "Hermione's"._

_She reached up and pulled the box from its resting place and slowly lowered herself to the floor next to it and opened the flaps. Immediately she gasped, right at the top was her wand, which she'd thought he'd destroyed months ago. She closed her hand around it and felt heat warm her from the inside out. Tucking the once lost article into her pocket, she pulled out an old photo album._

_Resting it in her lap she began to turn the pages. A small smile appeared as she looked over moving pictures from her time at Hogwarts and stills from her time with her family. There was one that she hadn't remembered being taken, it had her clinging to a box with S.P.E.W. written across the top in fancy letters and Harry and Ron standing on either side of her. From her expression, she knew that the two were teasing her about her stance on Elf rights. _

_A soft chuckle escaped, followed by a hiss of pain, as she thought of everything she'd gone through with them over that movement she tried to start. Merlin she'd put those boys through some times over that mess. Where had that Hermione gone? The Hermione that stood beside her best friend for each and every task at the Triwizard Tournament and through the death of Sirius and everything else that'd happened during their school years. What happened to the Hermione that threw caution to the wind just to stand behind Harry at the final battle and give whatever of her own strength she could? That Hermione would have never put up with what she'd been putting up with for so long now._

_Hermione turned another page in the album and had to pause as a photo of Harry and Ron caught her eye. Harry had paused mid-motion and gave her his usual small smile and a wave before hurrying to catch up with Ron. She exhaled heavily and closed the album and sorted through the rest of the box. All of them were memories of Hogwarts and home, including the newspaper article from the day of the final battle. The front picture was of a haggard looking Harry leaning on her with a relieved smile._

_With a new surge of determination to get out of the mess she'd gotten herself into, Hermione climbed slowly to her feet and went to investigate the rest of the office. She curiously dug through the drawers of his desk, wondering if she'd find anymore letters from her friends that he'd obviously been hiding from her for all this time. It made her wonder if they'd actually forgotten her birthday all that time ago or if he'd just intercepted the owls that brought their greetings. _

_She found a stack of letters with her name in the 'To:' line and various senders. She frowned slightly and set them aside and dug searched through the next drawer down. The next two drawers seemed to be nothing more than things for his work. She shrugged and sat down in the chair moving to the drawers on the opposite side of the desk. The top drawer held another, smaller stack of letters with her name. Her frustration grew to tempered anger. He'd hid all these from her for so long. How could he? How could he leave her to believe that they'd just given up on her?_

_Hermione shook her head and started to dig through the bottom drawer she'd pulled most the contents out before her hand bumped something cold and metal. She withdrew her hand and set everything that she'd pulled from the drawer down on the desk top. With a hesitant glance towards the door, she reached her hand back into the drawer and pulled out a heavy .9mm Beretta. She frowned slightly as she examined the weapon. She only knew faintly about the details of the gun from what she'd heard Daniel talking with Harry years ago after the battle._

_Glancing over her shoulder again, Hermione checked the safety before pulling the magazine from the gun. She pulled the slide back to where it locked, pulling the spare round from the chamber before setting the completely empty weapon on the desktop. Slowly she unloaded each round from the clip, studying each of the rounds individually. It was one thing, as a muggle, that her father insisted that she know. Simply because guns were not legal as they were here in the States, hardy meant that everyone had the integrity to follow those laws. If she recalled, she was gifted many books on the subject over the years._

_Her mind whirled for a few moments as she held a handful of bullets in her cupped hand. After a moment, her shoulders squared and she quickly reloaded the clip and put the magazine back into the gun, letting the slide snap forward. She ran her fingers over the barrel, smiling a grim smile when she was assured that there was a round in the chamber. With a flick of her finger the safety switch was flipped back to SAFE and Hermione tucked the weapon into the back waistband of her jeans. A small smile rose unbidden to her features at Alistair Moody's probable reaction to such placement of a weapon._

_Quickly she took the box of things from her past and all her undelivered letters, into their bedroom and hid them beneath the bed before returning and putting everything else, save for the gun, back where it belonged. She glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was already nearly four in the morning. She closed the office door behind her and walked slowly into the kitchen and began her usual routine for breakfast. Whenever he left, he was always back by six for breakfast, and breakfast was still expected to be made._

_Pulling her sweatshirt down to cover the pistol, just in case, Hermione started on breakfast. At Five forty-five, everything was ready. A plate of food sat in front of both they're places and a hot cup of coffee sat above the silverware. Hermione sat in her chair, a napkin covered the gun that was settled on her lap. She held her own coffee cup in her hands to keep her trembling from revealing how frightened she really was._

_Sure enough, six o'clock on the dot, the front door opened and slammed shut and Daniel stumbled in, she could smell the whiskey from where she sat. She kept her expression as neutral as she could, considering the smell and sight of him was enough to make her stomach curl. _

"_At least you've finally done something right," He grumbled, she couldn't help but notice the look of utter hatred in his eyes that wasn't conveyed in his drunken voice. "You know, I don't know why I keep you around aside from the fact you can cook. You're worthless and an eyesore to even look at otherwise."_

_Hermione clenched her jaw but lowered her gaze to the coffee mug. She used to be fairly pretty, she'd give him that. By the time they'd started dating, her bushy hair had settled and she'd finally grown into her body. She'd actually been quite an attractive girl even if a little on the plain side. Now though, she was pretty much a shell of what she'd been before. Broken and bruised. Her hair was stringy and limp. Her once bright hazel eyes were now dull, they held a look that reminded her of how Sirius's had looked like the first time they'd seen him after Azkaban. It was his fault too. He'd done this to her. He's the one who broke her down to this._

"_So pathetic," he spat, his hatred finally seeping into the words he spoke. "I don't see why those worthless sons of a bitches keep trying to get back in touch with you. Even Weasley's clueless ass is above you." He stepped forward and cupped her chin in his hand, eyes studying her for a moment before striking her with his other hand._

_As he opened his mouth to make another comment Hermione stood, the pistol pointed at his chest, the safety was off before the gun was aimed. "Don't. I'm done, Daniel. I'm done being your punching bag. I'm just…I'm done."_

_He seemed to sober up almost immediately and an amused smirk crossed his expression, "You wouldn't. You don't have it in you to kill me, Hermione. I don't think you even know how to shoot one of those."_

"_I've killed before, Daniel. It was self-defense then it's self-defense now," Hermione said. "And my dad taught me how to shoot a gun years ago." Perhaps a minor lie there but he certainly didn't need to know that._

"_How'll you play this off as self-defense? You planned it. It's premeditated, Hermione," he taunted._

"_The proof of my self-defense story is written all over my face and body, Daniel. Thanks to your temper tantrum last night," she said, keeping the gun pointed at his heart._

"_Then do it, shoot me," he said, taking a step forward to where the nose of the gun was pushing into his chest. "Shoot me, Hermione." She hesitated for a moment too long and his hand grasped hers and he tried to pull the gun from her hands._

_A tug-of-war match pursued and Hermione knew she'd only last so long, she knew he was stronger than her. She felt the pistol being turned inward, being turned in towards herself. With nothing other than a surge of panic she pushed out and pulled the trigger at the same time._

**BANG!**

_The sound shook her to her core and she froze, eyes wide in terror. His grip on the pistol slackened as he collapsed to the ground his face contorted in pain. Blood poured from the exit wound in his back, spilling out over the kitchen floor. _

"_Bitch," he hissed as he pressed his hands to his chest. With one burst of energy he reached up and snagged her hands, "My bloods on your hands Hermione. How's that make you feel?" With that his last breath escaped his body and he was gone._

_Hermione dropped the gun onto the ground next to him and looked down at her blood covered hands. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she rushed towards the phone, dialing 911. It seemed like a life time of sitting in her chair next to his lifeless body, staring at the now-dried blood on her hands, before the police finally arrived on the scene._

"_Christ," one officer swore as he entered the kitchen taking in the sight of the body. Another curse escaped his lips as he took in the condition of his apparent assailant. "Miss? Are you alright?"_

_Hermione looked up at him, eyes dull and flat, "With a-all due respect officer, I've put up with over six months of this a-and __**this**__ is what it comes down to? No, sir, I'm not alright."_

_The officer nodded and touched her shoulder gently, not sure how badly she was hurt, "It looks like you came out to be one of the more lucky ones than I've seen before. You're still alive."_

_Another officer, a female this time, entered the room and escorted her from the kitchen. "My I-I change clothes and wash up, please?" She asked quietly._

_With a small nod, the officer led her to her room, "Miss Granger, is there someone we can get a hold of for you? Someone to come get you?"_

_Hermione looked at the woman blankly, "Everyone I have is in England, and I've not spoken to them in two years…thanks to the man lying dead in my kitchen."_

"_Give me a name Miss, and I'll do my best to pass the word on to them that you're now safe," the officer said sympathetically._

_With a soft sigh, Hermione gave the officer her parents' names and telephone numbers before going into her room and grabbing a clean change of clothes and her wand from the box under the bed, then returning to the hallway on her way to the shower. _

**Present Day**

A month and a half had passed since that fateful day. It took the police nearly a month to settle everything and it turned out that her parents had moved, having no way to get a hold of her, had been unable to pass on that information. Two days after the final interview with the police and lawyers, they gave her the closure she needed. She wasn't going to be tried for murder. She wasn't even going to court as there was no one willing to press charges after they got the full extent of the damage to her body at his hands.

Four broken ribs, two more that had been broken and had healed improperly.

Numerous hairline fractures throughout her body.

Huge bruises covering most of her body that would normally be covered by clothing.

A concussion.

Among other things the mental and sexual trauma that the man had put her through.

Two days after that, everything in the house had been packed, all of his things in a pile to be sold or given away to charities. The house itself, much to the surprise of the receiving organization, she chose to donate to the local Women's Crisis center. Everything she owned and cared to bring with her was in a single suit case and in a box of memories. With that, she stepped on an airplane bound for London. Home. Away from the core of her nightmares.

Exactly three weeks from the time she left Colorado, Hermione had started to set her life back on the right track. She'd found a flat, not too far from the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron on the muggle side. The place was small but it suited her just fine. It was somewhere of her own, it was away from every memory of _him_. She could finally breathe again.

She spent the first week filling her flat up with the furniture and food that she'd need. She even bought a tv and paid for cable. Anything to keep her mind from straying to traitorous thoughts. The second week she spent doing nothing but watching the television, reading the stacks of old letters that she'd never received, and doing whatever she could to keep her nightmares at bay. She barely left her flat, almost afraid to run into her old friends. Afraid of what they'd think if they saw her now.

By the third week, Hermione was just plain bored. Her boredom drew her out of her cave and into Diagon Alley for the first time in over two years. The place had been rebuilt to its former glory since the last time she'd been there. When she'd left for Colorado, they were still working on reconstruction from the devastation caused by the war. She kept her gaze low as she entered her old favorite store: Flourish & Botts. The bookstore. It was only a matter of about fifteen minutes before she had an arm full of books that'd caught her attention. It was only a few moments after that all of them were bought and paid for and she found herself back outside in the blistery November sun.

Without a glance around she made her way back towards the Leaky Cauldron and home. It was only a spur of the moment decision that had Hermione take a seat in one of the booths at the pub and start looking over the menu. She was tired of cooking and tired of locking herself up in her flat. It was just one meal, it wasn't like it'd hurt.

She kept to herself and quietly pulled out one of her books, one of her old favorites _Hogwarts: A History_. A small smile peered on her face as she opened the pages of the book and started reading. It was a book that brought her back to a time before all that mess. A time when things were wrong, but the same time, more right than they'd ever been since.

Hermione had become so enveloped in her reading and in her book that she didn't hear anyone walk up. She didn't hear the disbelieving whispers. She didn't even take note that someone was standing right next to her, staring at her in lost disbelief. That is until she heard the all-too familiar voice that drew her gaze upwards to equally familiar eyes.

"Hermione?"


	2. Chapter 1 - Back to Reality

**Chapter 1 - Back to Reality**

"_Hermione?"_

The mere sound of her name coming from someone, anyone's mouth, was a terrifying feeling. She'd been avoiding this for three weeks. But coming from _his_ mouth made it that much more difficult for her to meet his eyes. She'd missed those eyes as much as she'd missed hearing his voice. She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily before turning her head slowly to meet his gaze for a moment giving a small, nervous, smile and ducked her head slightly.

"Merlin, it is you," Harry Potter said in shock as he slumped into the booth across from you. "Where've—How are you?"

"I-I'm alright. I mean I-I'm-I'm better," Hermione stammered with a small nod. "H-How are you, Harry? You look great." And he did. Merlin he did. He'd grown up since that final battle. He'd grown tall too, she was sure if she stood she still wouldn't reach his broad shoulders. He looked just the same as he did when she left, though at the same time he looked so much different. Much more carefree and at ease than he had before.

_Well it's been how long since you abandoned him? Of course he'd change_, she scolded herself mentally.

"I'm alright, I've been working at Hogwarts. I start next term as an instructor. Can you believe it? _Me_ as a teacher," Harry said with his lop-sided smile. "Merlin, I still can't believe you're actually here. You're back…it's been so long. I thought you were gone for good."

Her smile warmed a bit. He didn't seem to hate her. He hadn't forgotten who she was. He actually seemed…_glad_ to see her again. Hermione felt the beginnings of warmth and relief sweep through her body like she'd not felt in so long. Keeping herself from getting choked up she forced her mind to switch gears, "Let me guess, you're to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

He gave a small smile that told her the answer before he ever verbalized it, "Yeah, apparently they thought I was the best candidate. So where've you been? What brought you back?"

"I told you when I left where I was going, Harry," Hermione said quietly, she really didn't want to get into this conversation, not yet.

"Oh yeah…you left with _Daniel_. For the States right?" He asked curiously, though Hermione knew all too well that he wasn't asking after Daniel's welfare, just asking indirectly if they were still together and, in doing so, asking if he was there in London too. "What's that prat up to these days?"

"Yes, I lived in Colorado for the last few years but I left about three weeks ago. And I don't suppose he's up to much of anything anymore…" Hermione said quietly, her voice drifting off after the last word. She began avoiding his gaze once more, her eyes locked on her clasped hands.

"What do you mean not up to much of anything?" He frowned in obvious confusion.

"He's dead," Hermione said flatly and emotionlessly.

"Oh," Harry said, blinking in surprise, unsure of what else to say without making himself look any worse. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't be, I'm not," the witch said evenly though quietly enough that he'd had to strain to hear the words. Her tone told him clearly that the conversation was over for the time being. He noticed how she nervously rubbed her hands together as though she was trying to get rid of a bad feeling. Since when did Hermione have nervous habits? Eventually, he hoped, she'd be comfortable talking to him again. Like she used to be.

Harry cleared his throat and sat forward clasping his hands in front of him, studying her intently enough to make her squirm under his gaze. "How long did you say you've been back?"

"Three weeks," Hermione replied. "I finally got the chance to come home and I took it."

"Three weeks and you didn't let anyone know?" Harry frowned.

"Well, for the last two years I hadn't gotten a single letter from anyone. I'd thought you'd all moved on and forgotten me. It wasn't until the day of Daniel's death that I found out that he was the reason why I hadn't heard from you. He'd been forgetting to give your letters to me when I'd come home from work in the evenings," Hermione explained, hating to lie to Harry but not yet wanting to get into the real reason behind Daniel's death. "By that time, I figured you'd all just about hate me for abandoning you like I did."

The feel of his blood staining her hands still haunted her, not just in her dreams but when she was awake too. She rubbed her hands together again absently; the thought of his death on her hands was enough to send a shudder down her spine, though she thought she'd hid it well. "I didn't think anyone would really want to see me and after everything that happened before I left Colorado…I needed some time alone to gather myself."

"Hermione," Harry sighed softly, "You were behind me and at my side when I needed you. I'm not sure why you'd think it would be any different were our roles reversed in anyway. You should know that 'Mione."

"But I _didn't_ know that, Harry. I should have listened to you and Ron and everyone else. I never should have left. I'm sorry, you know. I'm sorry for leaving like I did," she said, quietly.

"It's just good to have you back, 'Mione. I really missed you. It's really not been the same since you've been gone," Harry said in earnest.

The two fell silent as the food she'd ordered was placed in front of her. She thanked the waiter and pushed her food around on her plate a moment before taking a small forkful into her mouth. "I really missed you too. I just hope everyone else is as forgiving as you are. I'm not holding my breath, I don't quite care for passing out anytime soon but I can hope…How is everyone else?"

"They're well. Ron's been seeing Luna Lovegood for a good six months now. It seems to be going well enough. She's one of the only ones who won't take his temper personally, I think," He said with a small smile, which she returned between bites of her dinner. "The twins are doing well enough in their shop. It's still up and running and just as much of a nuisance to Hogwarts as it was when we were there. Bill and Fleur got married right after you left. They've got a little girl, Rebecca, and one on the way. She's actually gotten to where she's tolerable."

Hermione smiled softly and nodded in thought. She knew she'd been gone a while but it still amazed her at everything that had changed while she was gone. A tinge of sadness swept through her as she listened to what she'd missed. Major events in the lives of those she'd always cared so much about. "What about Ginny?"

Harry smiled and shook his head, "That girl has gotten to be a firecracker. She followed your footsteps into St. Mungo's and she's doing great there. I was kind of surprised when she took over the children's ward though. Being a Healer's about as far as she followed you though. As far as I know, she's not seeing anyone or anywhere near ready to settle down."

"There's a story there," Hermione observed, still able to read her friend.

"She was seeing ol' Seamus Finningan for a while. Apparently, during a dinner that consisted of a little too much firewhiskey and some friendly banter, the two ended up kicked out of the restaurant for being too loud, she went to apparate them sidelong back to her flat….only they somehow ended up back at the Burrow," Hermione choked slightly on her food, her eyes wide, she put her fork down and nodded for him to continue. "Well…Mrs. Weasley woke up and got all excited thinking that Ron had decided to surprise her with a visit home…I mean the noise was coming from his bedroom and all."

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped, laughing and eyes wide. "Mrs. Weasley walked in on them?"

Harry nodded in amusement, "not only that but everyone was over the next morning for breakfast and Mrs. Weasley attempted to embarrass Ginny about the whole situation. Ginny shrugged it off and dismissed Seamus right there. She told him, word for word 'well it was fun but you know where the door is'."

Hermione shook her head in amazement, "Wow…what did Mrs. Weasley say? What did _Ron_ say?"

"Ron wasn't sure which fact to be more disgruntled about, the fact that Seamus had slept with his sister, or that they'd done it in his bed. He did turn an unusual shade of red though," Harry grinned. "I thought it was all funny."

"I bet, wow, I don't even know what I'd have thought," Hermione shook her head again, laughing softly. It felt good to smile and laugh. It'd been so long since she'd been able to do so freely. She smiled as Harry reached over and idly picked up her abandoned fork and took a bite of her food, "And what about you, Mr. Potter?"

"What about me?" He asked, tilting his head, amusement still dancing in his green eyes.

"Who's the lucky witch in your life?" She asked teasingly but with earnest curiosity.

Harry shook his head slowly as he stole another bite of her dinner, "No one. I don't think I've dated anyone steadily since we left Hogwarts. I've been on a few dates here and there, but nothing really to make note of."

"Really?" She said tilting her head curiously. Her mind started sending her warning flares, she was getting to close to an uncomfortable topic for her own good. She knew she needed to just leave it at that but curiosity got the best of the witch once again, "How come?"

It was Harry's turn to lower his gaze to his clasped hand, "I don't know. I suppose there's just not been anyone I've really been interested in. Not in a long while. Most the girls that I've gone on dates with…they've not really been…_real_. You know what I mean? I guess I've just been waiting for someone who actually wants me for me…not for what I did all those years ago."

Hermione nodded and give him an understanding smile and silence fell between the two. After a few moments of watching him eat her dinner, she chuckled inwardly then outwardly shifted awkwardly, "I really should be getting home…"

"Oh okay, would you like me to walk you?" Harry asked.

"Um, sure, if you'd like," she replied, feeling unusually shy around her old friend.

"Of course," He nodded, grabbing her bag of books from the seat next to her and dropping a few coins on the table for her meal. When she looked up at him in with a hint of her old stubbornness and he grinned, "Buying you dinner's the least I can do after not seeing you for so long. Got to start making up lost time somewhere. Besides, I think I ate as much of it as you did."

She smiled and shook her head with a silent chuckle. "Fair enough," she replied as she led the way out of the Pub and into the streets of Muggle London. The cold air hit her sharply making her stumble as she rushed to wrap her coat tighter around her for warmth. "I still hate the cold." She flushed slightly when she heard his soft chuckle of amusement.

A few blocks of companionable silence later, they reached the building and climbed to the third level. Hermione shifted from foot to foot, somewhat awkwardly, "My place really isn't in the best of shape for visitors…today was the first day I've left in three weeks," She said with a nervous smile.

He nodded in understanding setting her books on the floor next to her feet and pulling her into a hug. The surprise of the physical contact caused her heart to start pounding and her eyes widened and she started to pull away fearfully before she caught herself and allowed herself to be hugged. _This is Harry, not Daniel. He's not going to hurt you._ She exhaled heavily and wrapped her arms as tightly around him as his was around her.

"Merlin, I missed you, Hermione."

"I missed you too, Harry. I really did." She said quietly, her read resting against his chest comfortably.

"Hey, why don't you come with me to the Burrow for dinner this weekend? It's sort of become a tradition to go there for dinner every other Saturday. They'd all love to see you again," he said, pulling back slightly to look down at her.

She stiffened slightly but considered the prospect. Slowly, she nodded in acceptance, "Okay, I'll go."

He smiled brightly, a look that brought a smile to her face. "Good, I'll stop by at noon to get you then?" He said as he released her from his embrace and stepped back.

"Okay, sounds good," Hermione said, excitement and nerves growing in her mind.

"Great!" He said. "I'll see you then. It's great seeing you again, Hermione. I-I'll see you later then?"

"Of course," She smiled, leaning against her door watching him leave. "Oh and Harry? It's supposed to be a surprise. That means you don't tell Ron."

A slow grin crossed his expression and he nodded in agreement. "Good to have you back 'Mione. Good to have you back."

Three days later Hermione paced anxiously in her living room. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Eleven thirty. Rubbing her hands together nervously she moved to look at herself in the full length mirror on the inside of her bedroom door. Looking over herself once more, worrying over her appearance was easier than worrying about the reactions of the surrogate family that she'd walked out on years before.

At twenty-one, Hermione still held some of the attractive appearance that she held when she left for Colorado. She was still young enough that she regained some of it rather quickly after she left Colorado. Her hair was down to the small of her back and the weight kept the locks from frizzing as badly as it used to. There was shine back in the long chestnut curls. A few weeks of decent meals and good care had helped to revitalize her hair.

While the surface of her skin was clear of the purplish bruising, most of it had taken on the sickly yellowish hue; some of the bones were still slowly healing and were still rather tender to the touch. Her hazel eyes still held the haunted look, though she could start to see some of her old self peering through the shadowed eyes. Despite what she'd been through, Hermione had to say that she looked healthier than she had in a long time. She'd even started to gain a bit of extra weight; all in all, being home was beginning to do her well.

She'd dressed simply but comfortably for the dinner in a pair of light blue jeans that fit just right and a soft pink and chocolate brown knitted sweater with a hood and sleeves that were just a little too long that she'd loved so much because it was so soft to the touch, and a simple pair of black leather boots. Hermione had even done just a little with her makeup, something she'd gratefully learned during her time with Daniel. She didn't have anything to cover or hide this time, so she stuck with a conservative soft pink that matched her sweater and a light coat of mascara, both which helped to brightened her dulled hazel eyes.

She stepped back to look over herself again and smiled softly. In the last few years she'd grown into her body, no matter how badly Daniel said he disliked it, Hermione figured it was because in hiding it from everyone else's eyes that might be competition, and he'd also hid it from himself. It didn't matter anymore though. He was gone and she looked good, if she did say so herself. She giggled softly to herself at that thought.

Now if she could just get through this dinner without any confrontations or panic attacks. That was the biggest reason why she stayed home so much. Being in crowds of people still drove her nerves past their limits. Someone would bump into her and she'd nearly jump out of her skin. Someone would come around the corner and surprise her and she'd flinch back in preparation for an attack of some sort. It was pathetic and she knew it, but she couldn't help it. He still got to her, no matter how far away from him she was.

A knock on the front door made her jump from her thoughts and her gaze flew to the clock on her bedside table, Noon. She rushed from her place in front of the mirror and to the front door, peering through the peep-hole before opening the door with a smile, "Hello Harry."

"Hey," He said, returning the smile. She noted his gaze as it took in her appearance from head to toe and back again and she blushed at the approval in his bright green eyes. "You look great."

"Thank you, let me grab my keys and I'll be good to go," she said as she trotted and snatched up said keys from the coffee table she turned around to leave to find him standing inside the door looking around curiously.

"It's a nice place. It suits you well," he said as his eyes scanned his surroundings.

"Thanks," she said nervously, though completely unsure why she was nervous. "You ready to go, Harry?"

"Hmm? Yeah, let's go," He said with a bright smile, offering his bent arm to her.

"Harry Potter, Chivalrous? I'm impressed," she teased affectionately.

He grinned and shrugged, "Got to do something to impress the great Hermione Granger."

She blushed slightly but rolled her eyes, "Don't let it go to your head now Potter."

His grin simply widened as he led the way from her apartment and out into the street. They both laughed at his overly animated antics. She shook her head as he led them around the corner into an alley that was blocked off and out of sight. "Hold on tight," he said with a playfully teasing grin.

She rolled her eyes and swatted his shoulder before slipping an arm around his waist, preparing for the sidelong apparition that she'd not done in years, and even when she had, didn't so much like. She tensed a little when his arm slipped around her waist but before he could take note of it, a loud _Crack!_ took them from the alley near her flat, to the dirt road that was within walking distance from the Burrow.

Harry relaxed his hold on her as they both gained their balance before he tucked her hand back into the crook of his arm and led her towards the lopsided house that was the Burrow. The house was within sight when Hermione came to a complete stop, stopping Harry mid-step, "Everything alright, 'Mione?"

"Just nervous, is all," she said, her eyes studying the house in the distance. It'd been so long since she'd been there. She looked up at him as he studied her curiously before nodding slowly and exhaling heavily, "Let's go."

Without another word, Harry led her down the hill and to the back door of the house, which led directly into the kitchen. He put his finger to his lips in a silencing motion and squeezed her hand before stepping into the door way. "I've got a surprise for everyone," his amused voice said to a room she still couldn't see into. She heard murmuring voices and his hand moved around her waist and he directed her gently in front of him and pushed her gently into the Weasley kitchen where the _entire_ Weasley clan seemed to be gathered. Apparently even Charlie and Bill seemed to make these get-togethers, or at least they had this time around.

All was completely silent for a few moments and both Harry and Hermione waited on bated breath while her return registered in everyone's mind. The ticking of the clock on the wall was nearly enough to drive her insane as she waited for a reaction…any reaction was better than nothing.

It was only a split second more before a loud shriek echoed through the kitchen and Hermione was tackled into a hug by the first of the redheaded family, Ginny Weasley. Hermione inwardly cringed at the girl's impact into her still-injured ribs and her nerves screamed in panic at the sudden contact but she held on by threads and hugged her friend in return. "Hermione! How _are_ you? Where have you been? Oh-that doesn't matter right now, come in!" Hermione couldn't help but be amused in how much the youngest and only Weasley girl had grown to be a lot like her mother.

It was only a matter of moments before the rest of the Weasleys crowded around her calling their greetings and throwing their questions to her. She felt herself begin to shake. One person, she could handle, but she felt herself on the verge of a panic attack and her control was quickly sliding down hill. What was a warm and cozy kitchen was quickly becoming much too warm for her liking. Her head started to spin when she felt a hand slip around her waist and pull her out of the circle of redheads, "Whoa, give the girl some space. She's gone from little company to this in a matter of hours," Harry said in a way that was joking but serious in the same time.

She leaned back against him, trying to catch her breath and calm her frayed nerves, hoping none of the redheaded family had noticed how badly she'd been unsettled. "You okay, 'Mione?" he whispered into her ear. She nodded slowly. This was really going to take a lot of getting used to. Her nerves were so rattled and frayed from the previous months of torment that readjusting herself to human contact was going to take a lot of courage that she wasn't sure she had. It took a moment before her shaking settled but she played it off well enough as she focused on listening to the nonstop conversation of the Weasley household. Despite the fact that they kept asking her questions, they didn't stop talking long enough for her to answer.

Hermione had lost herself in the comfortable chatter about the kitchen that she hadn't even noted that she was still drawing comfort from leaning back against the wizard standing behind her until his hand rested at her waist causing her to jump slightly in start, before looking up curiously at him and then back to the commotion in the kitchen. She smiled when a mug of hot tea was shoved into her hands but a bustling Mrs. Weasley. "Do you need any help, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione offered ready to do anything other than stand idly. She couldn't help but think that the idleness was showing her insecurities that much more.

"Oh no, don't you mind any of this Hermione, you go into the other room with the rest of the kids until dinner's ready," the older witch said, pulling her from Harry's hold into a strong, motherly hug that didn't cause Hermione's nerves any discomfort and seemed to calm the ache of her sides. "It's good to have you back, Hermione." The younger witch reveled in how much she missed that maternal embrace. It'd been so long since she felt the kind of comfort a family brought.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, it's good to be back," She said looking the older woman in the eyes.

Molly tilted her head and frowned slightly but patted Hermione's shoulders gently, "Go on, Hermione, go catch up with the others. You and I will catch up later," the last sentence wasn't a request but a statement. Hermione knew immediately that Molly Weasley picked up and figured in a span of a few moments that Harry had not in the longer period of time she'd been back around him. She nodded and took in Molly's grim but understanding smile. Yes, Mrs. Weasley knew something had happened to Hermione since she'd been gone, even if she didn't know what.

Hermione followed felt her hand being snatched up and smiled in amusement when Ginny dragged her into the living room and sat her down next to her before the rest of the boys could take up all the chairs in the room.

"So?" Ginny prompted.

Hermione gave the girl a blank look and gave a small shrug, "So what?"

Ginny huffed, "Where have you been? Tell us about Colorado? Did you have fun? Come on, girl, spill."

The older witch felt herself shrink back into the cushions of the old, worn couch as she searched her mind for something to say. "It was alright, I suppose. There's really nothing for me to talk about, Ginny…"

Harry must have somehow sensed her discomfort because before the redheaded witch could launch into another round of questions he jumped in, "So, uh, Ginny….How's Seamus?" He said with a small smirk as he perched himself on the arm rest next to Hermione, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Ginny gave him a look and rolled her eyes, "He's _still_ trying to get me to change my mind. Is it really that hard of a concept to grasp that I wasn't looking for anything more than what I got?"

Hermione bit her lower lip to keep from laughing, remembering the story that Harry had told her earlier. She let herself relax back against her old friend once more, once again soaking in that feeling of comfort that she'd not felt in a very long time washed over her, though at the same time, an unsettling feeling crossed through her that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

That is, until she glanced up and her eyes met with a pair of blue ones studying her intently from the stair case that led to all the upper levels of the house. She ducked her head a little bit as she met the intense, inquisitive gaze, a gaze which seemed to instantly turn frosty.

"What's she doing here?" Ron Weasley asked in a cold, flat tone, looking around the room at his siblings.

"Ron!" Ginny scolded, "Stop being so rude."

"What? She disappears and ignores us for…how long were you gone, exactly, Hermione?" Ron sneered. "Doesn't matter anyway, you can just return and expect to pick up where you left off. Maybe with everyone else, but not with me."

Hermione sunk back into her seat, wishing she could just disappear. "I know, and I'm sorry Ron. Perhaps one of these days I'll be able to better explain the last few years to you."

Ron snorted, "You do that, Hermione. Like it's going to make a difference. You still abandoned everyone you cared about."

"You don't think I realize that Ronald?" Hermione said quietly.

"It doesn't matter, Hermoine. I really have no desire to hear your excuses," the wizard said before turning and walking out of the house without another word.

Hermione stared at her hands and bit her lip to keep from crying. She knew her welcome wasn't going to be the warmest from everyone. But she'd hoped Ron would have been a little more accepting and happy to see her back.

"Don't worry, 'Mione, he'll come around eventually," Harry said softly, his hand smoothing gently over her back. "He always does."

She nodded solemnly and wrapped her arms around herself before turning her attention back to the remainder of the family. The conversations had taken root and she was perfectly content just sitting back and listening to everyone talk. Her head came to rest against Harry's thigh and before long she felt sleep taking her. Only barely did she feel Ginny pry the cup of tea from her sleepy fingers, and just as slight was the feeling of Harry's hand gently combing through her hair. Everything around her had brought her back to that home feeling and her body was finally unwinding and allowing itself to relax. This is what she'd missed.

Home.

**Author's Note:**

**So there's the first chapter of the actual story. I do have a pretty decent idea on the direction I'm planning on going with this story and I've got two more chapters completed that need to be scrubbed but they'll be up shortly as well. **

**Please let me know what you think so far!**


	3. Chapter 2 -The Surprises along the Road

_**********TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: This chapter does involve physical abuse and hints at sexual abuse!*************_

**Chapter 2 -The Surprises along the Road to Recovery**

"Hermione," a soft voice said in a gentle tone as equally gentle hands shook her awake. Hermione shifted and blinked sleepy eyes as she sat upright, feeling entirely too well rested considering the brevity of the nap she'd taken. Glancing up towards the voice she saw the familiar green eyes smiling down at her.

"I'm sorry, Harry. How long was I asleep?" She asked as she stretched a little, wincing when her body reminded her of her still-healing injuries. No stretching check.

"You were out for a good hour, I wasn't going to wake you but Mrs. Weasley just said that dinner's ready," he said as he rose from the arm of the chair, offering her a hand up off the couch.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep let alone for as long as I did," she said sheepishly, accepting his hand and pulling herself to her feet. He didn't bother releasing her hand as he led her towards the Burrow's kitchen where the rest of the family was already gathering. Once inside, Hermione smiled inwardly as she gazed around at all the familiar faces, then an outward frown crossed her expression.

"Has Ron not come back yet?" She asked softly, letting go of Harry's hand and stepping further into the kitchen.

"No, he's still throwing a tantrum and acting like a prat," George said with a shrug.

"Don't worry about him, Hermione," Fred added. "He'll come around eventually, you know he's always been one to sulk a while before seeing reason."

The young witch sighed quietly as she thought over the situation, "I think I should probably go talk to him."

"Hermione, you're not required to explain yourself to him, regardless of how big of a fit he wants to throw over it," Harry said quietly from behind her.

"Yes, I do, Harry," she replied as she turned to look at him. "I owe you, Ron, and everyone else one hell of an explanation. And if giving it to him sooner than I'm entirely comfortable with will get him to realize that I didn't intentionally abandon any of you…then so be it. I'll do what needs to be done and, hopefully, be better for it."

Hermione gave a sad, distant smile as she finished statement. She gave Harry's arm a soft squeeze then moved across the kitchen towards where Molly was finishing setting the table. "Mrs. Weasley, I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation and one easier had when he's not on an empty stomach, would you mind horribly if I took some of the dinner with me?"

"Of course not, dear," Molly said with a gentle smile. "Let me get it packed up for you." With a quick flick of her wand, a basket zipped from the cabinets along with a few containers to hold food. Immediately the containers filled themselves to the brim and settled themselves into the basket. Another flick and two butterbeers landed nestled in with the containers of food. Molly grabbed the basket and handed it over to Hermione, smiling once again. "He usually tends to go out over the hill, there's a small stream right inside the tree line…that's where you'll probably find him."

"Thank you," Hermione said, graciously accepting the basket and heading towards the door, feeling particular eyes on her back as she left. It didn't take long to find the tree line, nor did it take long to pick out the head of bright red hair sitting amongst the leafless trees. Silently, she made her way towards her old friend. She could feel nerves beginning to get the best of her again.

"Why are you out here, Hermione?" Ron said in a tired, quiet voice.

"I thought you'd probably be hungry, I didn't want you missing dinner on my account," Hermione replied, as she sat near and across from him on the ground. "Plus, I figured that it was about time someone got the full story and reasoning out of me, and I thought you might be the best person to start with telling."

Ron leaned forward, resting his elbows on his bent knees, looking straight forward. His eyes wandered over the trees and the stream, seemingly anywhere but at her, his expression mirroring the battle between anger, betrayal and resignation that was going on inside his mind. After a moment he sighed and shook his head, "I don't know that it'll make a difference, but I'll try to listen."

He couldn't help but think over the last few years without her there. He'd be a liar if he claimed he didn't feel hurt and betrayed by her disappearance. He didn't think he knew of anyone that really liked that Daniel. Which surely meant that _his_ anger wasn't purely out of jealousy, right? But he knew Hermione, even after all these years, he knew her. And he knew the woman sitting timidly-wait _timidly? Hermione was known for being a lot of things but timid was scarcely ever one of them-_beside him now was still Hermione Granger, and Hermione Granger always had a good reason for the things she'd do. He only hoped he could lid his temper long enough to hear her out.

Hermione watched him silently for a moment, he really had grown up. Last time she'd seen him, he wouldn't have blown over his temper this quickly. She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands, rubbing them together anxiously as she was recently known to do before folding them in her lap as she began to speak. The tremble in her voice betraying just how difficult of a time she was having attempting to speak about her nightmare. "When I first left, I was happy with him. I really was. He was so very sweet and attentive. And I sent letters to you, your family, my family, Harry, everyone for the first few months. By June, I only got a handful here and there in response. By September, I wasn't getting any responses. I remember the disappointment that September thinking that you were all so angry with me that you'd not even cared that my birthday had come and gone."

"We've been sending you letters all along!" Ron interrupted accusingly. He knew, for a fact, that Harry and Ginny at very least continued to write her letters the entire time that she was gone.

Hermione raised her hand, shook her head and took a ragged breath, "Let me speak, Ron, please. This isn't easy. Let me get through the whole thing and I swear to you, I'll answer any of your questions that I can. But please, let me get through this first." Swallowing thickly, she took another shaky breath before beginning again "By Christmas I'd assumed everyone here'd all but given up on me. I sent out letters every chance I could by owl and by regular post, but never did I get anything in response."

Hermione paused to take a deep and stricken breath as she started to think over what she was about to say next, her eyes locked back onto her folded hands, but feeling his gaze finally turned onto her. "After Christmas, everything went very bad, very fast. I still don't know what caused the change and I probably never will. It was as though a timer had gone off and my time was up. By April, I was hiding from him. His screaming. Always screaming. His hurting hands. The beatings I could have learned to live with, sad as it is it was his twisted sense of what love was supposed to be that finally broke me. H-He'd nearly killed me just after it begun. A-and at the time, I sincerely wished that he would just do it and let me go."

"By October, I was lucky to still be walking and breathing each and every day. Even then it was difficult to do, normally, but at least I could. But I can't even call it a blessing. I was in bad shape, Ron. I can't count how many times he'd nearly did me in, always expecting me to, at very least, act like normal by morning. Even if I was hurting so bad I couldn't see straight, I wasn't allowed to let it show. He'd intentionally keep all the injuries off of my face so that when he took me out to parade me around-which he did frequently-there would be nothing for anyone to suspect. He would always make sure I was dressed in such lavish garments and jewelry as though I should be grateful to be out with him. In a way, I was I suppose. At least when we were out with his friends he couldn't physically do me any harm. Not with anyone to witness it. That didn't stop him once we got back home, though."

She paused a moment to wipe away the tears that she swore she wouldn't cry and to try to regain some composure. Feeling his intent stare on her, she took another deep breath and exhaled heavily before beginning again, it taking all her self-control to keep her calm. "Every small thing I did wrong, in his eyes, I was punished for. Of course, there were very few things that I did correctly in his eyes by that time. "No" and "Stop", were virtually nonexistent with him by that point and only served to piss him off further and make whatever he was doing that much worse. I was so lost and alone. I hadn't even heard from my parents in almost a year."

"There was finally one night, I was in on the floor by the fireplace-the floor was the only place that he'd allow me to dirty in the living room-and he came in with envelopes, yelling and screaming and screaming," her gaze lifted and her eyes closed in the memory, "Telling me that he'd already warned me about trying to contact anyone from back here. Going on about how I'd gotten letters from Harry and Ginny and a few others. I was so confused. I'd not been allowed a wand let alone an owl in months. He threw them in the fire and…and really put effort into making his point that night. I suppose that I can only be thankful to muscle memory by that point. I didn't physically feel anything at the time. I felt it after, of course, but by that time I was simply numb during the acts."

At that point she felt Ron move over to sit next to her, carefully taking her hand into his much bigger one and squeezing gently in support, "What happened, 'Mione?"

She swallowed thickly and started speaking again, tears falling unchecked, "I'd blacked out, like I often did by that point in time. He left sometime while I was out, probably to one of his other girlfriends, I really didn't care, between the pain of what he'd done during the blackout and the curiosity about the letters he'd thrown into the fire. I didn't care where he went, but I suddenly had to know what he was talking about. I went into his office, which was going against one of the biggest rules he had in place for me had he found me there he likely _would_ have killed me, and I started looking around. I found several large stacks of letters. From everyone. All bound in string and hidden in his desk drawers."

He squeezed her hand again as he listened and she held on tightly to his as though it was a lifeline back to reality from the heart-wrenching story she told, "I found the box in the closet that had all my things from school. My wand. My photo album. It really snapped me back into reality when I saw that photograph of you, me, and Harry during my S.P.E.W. phase. I kept asking myself, what happened to _that_ Hermione? I felt resolution like I'd not felt in years. I knew I had to get out of there. Then, through my digging around, I'd also found his gun." At Ron's confused expression she explained, "A gun is a muggle weapon. It shoots metal at a very, very fast speed that can be deadly. Anyway, that morning when he came home again as he always did, expecting me to pretend everything was absolutely fine, and…he started in on me again and…and I'd had enough and he tried to take it from me and…and it went off. I-I k-killed him."

Her words drifted off amidst her tears and Ron checked his anger with the poor excuse for a man and pulled her to him, allowing her to lean into his chest. She buried her face into him as she let all the tears from the last year pour from her heart. There was a twisted sort of relief that talking to someone drew from her heart. Hermione had known she needed to talk about everything. But as it did with most people, pride had gotten in the way. Maybe it was a good thing she forced herself to tell Ron. Even if she would be hard-pressed to repeat the story to anyone else anytime soon.

A short while later she pulled away and wiped her face with her sleeve and looked around the wooded area and then back down to the ground, "I'm sorry that I left, I'm sorry that it took me so long to figure out what was going on. I'm so, so sorry."

Ron shook his head slowly, mentally kicking himself for the way he'd treated her when he'd first seen her that evening, "No, I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry I didn't notice that something wasn't right and come out there and help you." Oh the things he'd have done to that man, had he had any inkling of what was happening to Hermione.

She smiled sadly and looked up at him, "You couldn't have known."

Sighing just as sadly, he pulled her back into a hug and held her tightly, not saying a word. She rested her head against his chest and they sat there in companionable silence for a short time. Hermione heard the smile in his voice when he spoke, "So, uh, Hermione…what about that food?"

A slow grin grew on her expression and Hermione pulled away from him laughing and reached for the basket, ignoring her ribs' sharp protests. "One thing will never change, Ronald Weasley, and that's your appetite," she said with chuckle as she unloaded the contents and set them out around on the ground.

The conversations continued, on a much lighter note for well over an hour. Hermione felt so relieved that she'd managed to at least start the mend on her friendship with him. It was well near dark when they repacked the basket and headed back towards the house in companionable silence, Ron resting a protective arm over her shoulders and, Hermione, allowing him to do so. It was nice to feel protected and secure. They were nearly half way there when they noticed Harry making his way towards them.

When he saw them, he smiled warmly, "Well it looks like you two settled everything?"

Hermione nodded as Ron spoke, "I'm a little dense at times but I get the hint when it's thrown at me."

The three friends shared a chuckle and Harry spoke, "Hermione, you mind if I have a word?"

She glanced at Ron who shrugged and hugged her tightly and took the basket from her before he started back towards the house once again, "I'll see you two there."

Harry watched her silently until the red head was out of sight and immediately pulled her into a strong hug. "Harry?" She said, worriedly, as she slipped her arms around him returning the hug, "are you alright?"

"No, Hermione, I'm not alright," He said quietly. "I hope you'll forgive me, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but you'd been gone a little while and I know how Ron can be and I just went to check to make sure you were okay…that Ron hadn't said or done anything stupid…and…and I heard everything. Merlin, Hermione. I wish I could have been there for you, the way you've always been for me."

Hermione couldn't bring herself to be angry at him for listening into the conversation, instead she just held on tighter and put her head against his chest comfortably, she drew a shaky breath and let herself smile, "I don't hold it against you, or anyone else, Harry. It was a horrible ordeal but it's over now. I'm working to get past it, I'm working to get rid of the nightmares and the panic attacks. But it's going to take a while. It's not something that's going to go away overnight, no matter how much I wish that were the case. Be here for me now and don't worry that you couldn't be there then. Okay?"

Harry kissed the top of her head gently and nodded, "Okay, Hermione. I'm always here for you 'Mione, please don't forget that."

"I won't," Hermione said, cuddling closer into the embrace without really noticing it.

After a moment they broke from the hug and Hermione reached up and gave her friend a small kiss on the cheek before they turned and made their way towards the house, once again. She couldn't help but feel in a better, lighter, happier mood than she'd been in for some time. She was home. She was around people she loved, who no longer seemed to hate her.

Harry took her hand gently in his as they walked, his mind, as Ron's had done earlier, wrapping around the story he'd heard. He'd always been prepared for the stories of the Death Eaters and the way they and Voldemort had treated people. He'd gotten used to the Dursley's twisted ways of treating him. But there wasn't much of anything that would have prepared him for the realization of the type of person Daniel had been. Perhaps the man was lucky that Hermione had ended his existence before he had to endure what Harry and the rest of the people who loved Hermione would have come up with.

He sniggered inwardly at the thought of what the Twins would have come up with.

Once back inside the kitchen, Hermione sighed inwardly as she felt the curious glances of the Weasley household on her back. Anyone who knew Ron would have known that whatever she'd said to him had calmed his anger towards her, but amplified it towards another direction. They, of course, were curious as to what that other direction consisted of.

She steeled herself to face them, hoping no one would outright start asking her questions. Her two best friends knew her story…that was plenty for now. As though reading her mind, Mrs. Weasley started ushering her children around to get them to help her clean up the dishes from dinner.

"Alright, dear?" the elder witch asked quietly.

"I will be," Hermione said, offering the witch a small smile. "I definitely will be, Mrs. Weasley, thank you."

Later that evening, after persuading the reluctant Hermione to stay the night at the Burrow, she found herself sitting on the transfigured bed with Ginny in the younger witch's childhood room. The two young women had been idly talking for the past hour or so, rather Ginny was talking and Hermione was listening.

She'd learned that the twins' shop had blossomed into a pretty decent sized chain over the previous two years. Charlie had managed to gain one of the most senior positions at the dragon reservation. Percy had started to become a little closer with the family though was still mostly distant. Ginny herself seemed to have taken up where Hermione left off on the St. Mungo's Healer apprenticeship. It was nice to get caught up on what she'd missed.

Ginny smiled slightly when she saw the elder witch fight to stifle a yawn and tilted her head, "Maybe we should try to get some sleep. Probably been a pretty hectic day for you, yeah?"

Hermione smiled sheepishly and nodded, "Definitely been a good bit of excitement for one day." It was a testament to how tired she was and how comfortable she'd allowed herself to become that she began undressing and changing into the earlier loaned pajamas without thought to the state of her body and Ginny being in the room. It wasn't until she heard a strangled gasp from the room's other occupant that she realized her mistake.

Ginny moved towards her and her fingers ghosted over the yellowed bruises that covered her torso. "Oh no, no, Hermione…" the girl whispered, pushing Hermione's hands out of the way when she'd tried to cover herself. The redheaded witch slowly circled her friend taking in the damage that had been done, hands gently feeling the yet unhealed broken ribs and bruises.

"Have you had any of this looked at?" she asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head, feeling uncomfortable and self-conscious. "No, I've mostly been trying to keep it all from even being seen."

"You haven't healed it?" Ginny asked curiously.

"I hadn't used my wand in nearly a year, I didn't feel comfortable trying to heal myself without the practice."

"Do you want me to heal what I can of it?"

A look of relief crossed Hermione's expression. To heal the injuries would get rid of the regular unwanted reminders, not only that but no one else would have to see her this way. "Could you, please?"

Ginny smiled gently and got her wand from the table between the two beds. "I'll have to do a diagnostic over you first to see the full extent 'cause it'll have to be done in layers so nothing gets over looked and messed up," she explained, flicking her wand in an intricate pattern as she circled Hermione. Ginny was thankful that the diagnostic charm was one of the first, and most basic, charms that she had been taught during her apprenticeship. When the charm was complete, Ginny seemed to pale beneath her heavy layer of freckles.

"This might be a little bit more difficult than I'd thought it would be, Hermione," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly before being forced into a neutral tone.

"Why is that?"

"There's extensive damage, your body's not healed properly and to actually heal it all it'll require a lot of work. A lot of which I don't know how to do yet," Ginny replied in the same neutral tone. "But…that's not all…Hermione, can I ask you a personal question?" Hermione looked slightly uneasy, not particularly liking where this train of conversation was leading, but nodded wearily in consent nonetheless. Ginny licked her lips nervously before taking a deep and centering breath before she launched into her question, as though asking it faster would make it easier to handle, "W-When was your last period?"

The feeling of an icy dread darted down her spine at what she knew the result of this line of question might be. "About six months ago, I think. I know that I've spotted quite a bit but I always contributed that to…to other things."

"That's not completely surprising taking into account the amount of stress your body's been under, it's known that trauma or stress can cause a woman's body to basically go into "survival mode", but…Hermione…unless the Charm is very much mistaken…you're-you're pregnant. About three months if the diagnostic charm is to be trusted," Ginny said, watching her friend wearily.

Hermione visibly paled as her breathing started coming in gasps and her head began to swim, panic seeping through her system. Pregnant. Why? Why, why, why? Hadn't he already broken her enough without adding this on top of it all? She was still struggling to care for _herself_, how in the name of everything that is good, was she going to be able to take care of a child as well?

After that train of thought, Hermione thought and felt nothing. It was only out of reflex that Ginny was quick enough to catch the older witch before she hit the floor and edge her over to the bed. Before fleeing the room-mindful enough to close the door behind her-in search of the one person who would undoubtedly know exactly what to do-her mum.


	4. Chapter 3 - Magical Immunity

**Chapter 3 - Magical Immunity**

"Hermione, come on now," was the first thing Hermione noticed followed shortly by something damp being pressed gently to her face and forehead. The very next thing she noticed is that she had absolutely no idea where she was. She slowly blinked her eyes open with a confused expression and noticed Molly Weasley hovering just at the edge of her peripheral. Her confusion only doubled until she scanned the room she currently occupied and her gaze caught the owner of the room standing anxiously against the door.

Ginny's room?

Suddenly everything flooded to the forefront of her mind. She, Hermione Granger, who not only managed to escape a severely abusive relationship which ended in a situation that was literally his life or hers, was approximately three months pregnant with the bastard's child. The young witch forced herself to take a deep breath to calm herself and to suppress the bile that was attempting to make its way up, exhaling sharply as her ribs protested. Finally, she brought her gaze to the woman who'd been her surrogate mother for nearly nine years.

Molly's expression told her everything she needed to know. Yes, she knew the horrors that the last year had held for Hermione. Yes, she'd seen the injuries and was concerned about both her physical and mental health. And most importantly, no, she wasn't going to press for answers to her questions. At least, she wouldn't just yet. Hermione sat herself up slowly, with the aid of the elder witch, before sighing heavily and raising her gaze once more.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I know you were wanting to keep this to yourself as much as possible but with everything…I mean, I'm only in my first year of my apprenticeship…I was just worried and scared for you," Ginny said, moving forward from her spot at the door, her tone trembling as she stumbled through her apology.

Hermione shook her head slowly, "It's fine, Ginny, really. The boys…?"

"Are sitting on the landing of the stairs trying to figure out what's going on. I haven't told them anything," Ginny promised.

A breath of relief escaped Hermione and she nodded a bit more certainly, "Good. Good, thank you, Ginny."

"Did you still want Ginny to heal what she can, Hermione?" Molly asked, kindly.

"If you're willing to, I'd greatly appreciate it," Hermione said, turning her reply towards the younger girl. "I understand if you'd rather not, I know there's a lot to do."

"No, I can do it," Ginny insisted.

"Alright, I'll leave you two be, and send the boys off for the night," Molly nodded. "Though, Hermione, in the morning we're going to talk and get you taken care of, alright?"

Though it was stated as a question, Hermione knew better than take it as such. Molly Weasley was giving her the night to start to come to terms with the sudden turn of events, but come morning she'd have to truly face the music. With a soft good night to the girls, Molly made her exit from the room where they could hear her voice scolding Harry and Ron to get back to bed. After a few long, almost awkward, moments, Hermione pulled her attention back from the door to rest on her friend who looked decidedly unsure of how to proceed.

Hermione shifted herself to where she sat on the edge of the bed, her feet on the floor, and sighed. "Come on, Gin, let's get me patched up and get some sleep okay?"

"Are you sure you want me to? I already messed up once," the girl said miserably.

"How do you figure that?"

"I went and got Mum didn't I? I caused you a panic attack that made you pass out to begin with, didn't I?"

"Ginny…You went and got your mum because you aren't used to dealing with that situation. I'm not mad at you for it. I'm not upset with you in the least," Hermione smiled gently. "As for the other bit, you didn't cause me to pass out. It's just another hurdle that the gods decided I needed to have in my path and apparently chose Daniel to deliver the hurdle and you to deliver the bad news. I'm not particularly fond of the idea of taking it out on the messenger."

Ginny smiled weakly and nodded, moving forward with renewed confidence. "Alright then, let's get you fixed up. Though I'm only going to do what I feel comfortable taking care of, 'Mione. You've got a lot of damage that's been done to you and I don't feel right fixing something and risking making something else worse."

Hermione nodded in agreement and rose from her spot on the bed to stand in the center of the small bedroom, giving Ginny the necessary room to work. While the younger witch worked, Hermione allowed her mind to wander. Since she'd gotten back to London, she'd denied herself any opportunity of thought that might lead to self-pity. She had made a point to remain as active as possible throughout the day to avoid times when her mind might wander off and to ensure that when she laid down to go to sleep, she would be able to do so. Even in those times, however, the nightmares didn't play by her rules, but then again, they weren't conscious thought either.

Later that night, once the younger witch's breathing even out and sleep took over, Hermione lay awake thinking over the current turn her life had taken. It seemed she was barely allowed enough time to make it over one hurdle before another was thrown in front of her. She felt the unbidden tears begin to flow and tried to wipe them harshly away, she would not let him win, not now. But it seemed the ache of life wasn't going to go away and leave her be that easily. Glancing over at the sleeping witch in the other bed, Hermione rolled away onto her side and let them fall freely. A startled, shaky gasp escaped her as the mattress next to her with another's weight. The not-sleeping Ginny gave her a sad but reassuring smile and hugged her friend, holding her until she had cried herself to sleep before falling herself.

Hermione woke to the sun shining brightly into the room, feeling oddly rested all things considered. She glanced to her friend who'd provided her with comfort in her pain and the strength to steer away the nightmares. It only barely escaped her attention that she still practically clung to the girl. The redhead stifled a yawn and gave a sleepy smile, "Mornin'"

"Morning Gin," Hermione replied quietly.

"How are you feeling, considering everything?"

"Scared. Worried," She said after a few moments of contemplation. "But at the same time, there's relief and anxious as well."

Ginny tilted her head slightly in a curious expression, "Scared and worried I can understand..."

"Relief that he or she doesn't have to be subjected to the man that their father was, the type of man he was. Anxious…well, I'm anxious at the idea of being a mother," Hermione explained.

The redhead looked slightly relieved at the other's statement and it was Hermione's turn to look curious and confused. Ginny shifted awkwardly and averted her gaze as she spoke, "Merlin, I didn't want to be the one to have to tell you this but the reason I'm relieved that you've at least mostly accepted this is that…the Wizarding world…the Wizarding world is different than the Muggle one, 'Mione. Abortion is an offense only a few notches below the Unforgivables in this culture. In some instances, I suppose I can understand it being frowned upon, but it's not just frowned upon in _some_ instances."

Hermione frowned slightly, taking what she'd just been told and then shrugged and shook her head, "As much as this is a bad time, I don't think I could bring myself to that even if it were an option. Though considering the shape that I was in last night, I can understand why you'd be reluctant to tell me."

Ginny nodded, again in relief that she hadn't hurt the woman more than she already had been, and gave a weak smile. "I was thinking, though, with your injuries it's probably a better idea to go to St. Mungo's sooner rather than later."

"I was thinking that too," Hermione agreed. "I was debating on whether I wanted to get it over with before or after the talk with your Mum."

"I think I could work and get you seen early this morning," Ginny said, thoughtfully. "Maybe Mum will come with us and then the three of us can have a girl's day in Diagon Alley?"

"That sounds like a great idea."

"And it would work on two sides of things, it would get you taken care of as well as out and about for a little while, but it would also give you time to get your mind figured out before the boys decide to start pestering you with questions," Ginny grinned.

"I do believe I like the way you think, Ginny Weasley," Hermione stated with a laugh. The girls' conversation was interrupted by a sharp rap at the bedroom door and Molly Weasley's voice came through the wood.

"Are you girls up? Breakfast is ready."

The two witches gracefully untangled themselves and moved to the door. Ginny ushered her mother briefly into the room and explained the plan they had come up with. Molly's gaze rested curiously on Hermione before she nodded slowly in agreement. "I think that sounds like a marvelous idea girls. Would you like to invite Luna and the others, or just us for now?"

"We can invite them, perhaps have them meet us for lunch somewhere after we've finished at St. Mungo's?" Hermione suggested, inwardly pleased at the idea of seeing some of her old friends again.

Molly nodded with a smile before turning back to the door, "Well come along and get some breakfast in you then we can get around to leave."

The girls obediently followed the matriarch to the kitchen and Hermione felt herself being pulled into a seat between Ron and Harry and gave them both a warm smile in return.

It was definitely good to be home.

"Morning 'Mione," Harry greeted, Ron doing the same but for once, it seemed, finishing the food in his mouth before doing so. Conversation was light that morning and neither of her two friends mentioned anything about the previous night, though Hermione knew it was only a matter of time when she saw the brief flash of disappointment cross Harry's expression when the topic of the "girls' day" came up. Hermione offered him a small smile as she finished her food and rose to go get showered and changed for the day ahead of her. She felt her smile soften when he caught her hand and squeeze gently before turning back to his own food.

Once securely behind the locked door of the bathroom, Hermione exhaled heavily and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Quickly, she undressed and stood to examine herself closely in the mirror. She was pregnant, yet…she didn't see it and didn't really feel it. Granted, before she had been closed off in that house and then her flat in London, she had known a few Muggle women who'd been completely healthy and not known until the fourth or fifth month. She remembered thinking it odd when she'd heard it. How does your body change so much without you noticing it? She'd asked herself that many of times and never quite came to an answer that made sense to her. Yet there she was, Ginny had said three months along, and she hadn't noticed a thing.

Or maybe she had noticed and simply contributed the changes she noticed with the changes that had occurred in her immediate history. Hermione frowned at her reflection in curious confusion before starting the water—very hot as was her usual preference—and climbing into the shower where her thoughts followed her. She closed her eyes under the spray of hot water and smiled gently at the image of a little girl with curly brown hair and big doe-eyes, as the thought passed through her mind, her hand rested on her lower belly. With a deep breath and an inward promise to let this start a new, and better, chapter in her life, Hermione quickly finished her shower and shut off the water. With a quick flick of her wand she passed a drying spell over herself then a smoothing on over her hair to tame what bushiness hadn't grown out. Another smile crossed her expression as she noticed just how easily she was getting re-adjusted to having her wand back.

Of course, it was then that she had realized that she hadn't remembered to retrieve her clothing from Ginny's bedroom before her shower. Rolling her eyes at her own forgetfulness, Hermione wrapped a towel snuggly around her body and opened the door just enough to peak out and ensure the landing was empty. Relieved, she slipped from the bathroom and had just made it to the door when she'd heard Harry's voice calling her name from the top of the stairs. She squeaked in surprise and squeezed herself into the room before peaking her head back out to him, rosy blush staining her cheeks at having been caught. "Yes, Harry?"

"I was just making sure you were alright, from last night I mean," he said softly as he approached the partially closed door.

"Oh yes, I'm fine. I promise I'll explain it all to you later but right now, I'd rather like to get dressed," She said, her nervousness coloring her voice as heavily as the blush stained her cheeks.

"Oh, right right, sorry," he stammered, color rising to his own face, his hand reaching back to scratch at the back of his neck as he was known to do when confronted with nerves or embarrassment. "Um…I know you are all going out for the girl's day and all, but when you get back?"

"Yes, Harry. We'll talk. Later," Hermione said with an amused roll of her eyes. When he nodded and took a backwards step, Hermione pulled her head back into the room and closed the door behind her. She was half dressed when the door opened, her quick glance revealed it to be Ginny who had apparently had the same lack of forethought as she had had. With a small smile to the other witch, Hermione quickly finished dressing and pulled her hair into a single, thick braid set just off center so it would settle easily forward over her shoulder. She sat on the bed and glanced up at Ginny as she put her shoes on, "So what all is on the plan for today?"

"First, obviously, get you in to see the Healers. Depending on how long that takes either we'll walk around a bit, maybe do some window shopping for things for the baby or we'll go on and meet up with the others for lunch," Ginny said. Hermione noted that the younger witch sounded as though she would be quite pleased at the prospect of looking at things for the baby as much if not more than the latter notion. Ginny sat on the bed across from Hermione and studied her before speaking again. "The Healer we, well you, will be talking to is Healer Catherine Kristov. She is extremely personable while keeping everything professional and she's damned good at her job. I didn't tell her who you were when I spoke to her but I did tell her some of your story. She came from a similar story prior to coming to work at St. Mungo's. She's agreed to do this visit entirely off the books. The only thing that will have to be paid for is if any potions or specific treatments are required as an "aftercare" type of thing."

Hermione blinked in surprise and nodded slowly in understanding, her mind going over the information that was given to her. "What all do you think this visit is going to consist of, Gin?"

"It's hard to say, really," Ginny said quietly. "Like I said last night, you've got some pretty extensive injuries there, 'Mione. It could be as simple as her finding one major thing that will help everything else to heal better and at a more rapid pace. Or it very well could turn out to be something she's going to go through, step-by-step, and heal everything individually. Mind you, if the second scenario or something similar is the case, that isn't even counting what may or may not be needed separately or in conjunction with the prenatal care. We're really not going to know exactly what's going to happen until she sees you. What I can tell you is that it's likely to begin with a more thorough diagnostic charm that I was able to do last night that way she can gauge everything and decide where and how to start. Once she's through with the charm, she'll be able to lay out for you the way the rest of the visit should go. At the very end of the visit you'll schedule any follow-up appointments, including and especially your prenatal visit. She'll prescribe any treatments she deems necessary."

"This is just so strange, surreal, maybe is a better word for it," Hermione said, staring blankly at her folded hands. She shook her head sharply to bring herself back into focus then sighed as she rose to her feet, offering a hand to Ginny for the same, "I suppose we ought to get going, no need to make the good doctor wait needlessly."

Within an hour, the three witches stood in the lobby of St. Mungo's and Hermione felt her nerves near getting the better of her and she exhaled heavily, hands pressed against her ribs as she did so to ease the pain of the action. The woman who approached the trio slightly reminded her of Luna Lovegood. The woman was tall, at least she was much taller than Hermione's own 5'3" frame, yet she was willowy thin with fair skin, warm yet aloof blue eyes, blond hair of indiscernible length as it was pulled up into a neat bun at the base of the woman's head. Hermione stood back as the woman gave Ginny a warm hug before the blue gaze turned to rest on her. The woman's eyes widened in recognition and she started to speak before glancing to Ginny in curiosity. After a moment the woman gathered herself once more and spoke to the three women with, Hermione noted, an accent she was not quite familiar with enough to place, "I'm Healer Catherine, please, let's go to my office where we might speak a little more freely."

Hermione obediently followed the Healer with Molly and Ginny shortly behind her. Rather than focusing on her nerves, Hermione turned her attention to the witch just in front of her. Ginny had mentioned that this woman had a similar experience as her own, yet her smile was warm and friendly. She seemed not at all bitter with the cards that were dealt her way. Hermione nodded inwardly. If this woman could do it, there was absolutely no reason that she could not come out of the whole ordeal a better, happier person. With that thought, her nerves settled, even if only slightly.

Once all four witches were in the office, Catherine closed the door gently and took her seat on the stool nearest the desk. She studied Hermione for a moment before sighing, "Ginny, if you are to ask this type of thing of me again, I would appreciate that you at very least inform me as to whom I am agreeing to see. Not, Miss Granger," Catherine said, turning her gaze on the brunette, "that I have any personal negativity toward you, however, had Healer Ginny told me whom I would be meeting with, I would have better understood the need for discretion and had this visit at a separate location as to avoid a—conflict of interest, I believe would be the best term."

"It's fine, Healer Catherine, really it is," Hermione said, earnestly. "I'm simply very thankful that you're willing to do this at all. At leastwise without taking the entire visit to the _Prophet_ the moment we leave your office."

The Healer nodded, though it was more of an elegant bowing of her head, before rising to her feet, motioning for Hermione to do the same. When the younger witch complied, Catherine withdrew her wand from her sleeve and transfigured Hermione's clothes into a simple medical gown. The elder woman slowly moved in a circle around her, the Healers wand drawing intricate patterns in the air. Just barely over twenty minutes later, the Healer stepped back from Hermione and moved to her desk. Gently, she tapped her wand against a stack of parchment and immediately it began to fill with words that Catherine read as they appeared, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead the more she read.

Finally, Catherine settled the parchment back onto her desk and turned her serious gaze back to Hermione, "I must be honest, Miss Granger, it is short of a miracle that both your child and you are still alive and relatively well."

Hermione stared at the woman in shock, glancing sideways to Ginny and Molly, both who looked as stunned as she felt. "What do you mean?"

"Given the extent of damage that your body, not to mention your mind, has undergone, the amount of energy your body is consistently consuming in its attempts to heal you, coupled with the simple fact that your body is also consuming energy that should be used in healing your injuries is being used to sustain an additional life," Catherine shook her head. "Miss Granger, many of the women who come to see me after a traumatic experience such as yours, they come to see me due to either a miscarriage or a failed attempt to terminate the pregnancy with which their mind just cannot come to terms. Fortunately for you, it would seem that neither your mind nor body give up easily."

The woman cleared her throat softly before rising to her feet once again and approaching the young mother-to-be, speaking in a quiet, soothing voice, "Now, I will need to heal the most extensive of your injuries today, this will lessen the amount of energy your body has to direct away from the child. The lesser of your injuries, I believe are better healed on their own through your own natural magic. Healing these minor things will actually help your child's growth in that it will be receiving stronger, active magic rather than idle, passive magic. This is not to say that you should regularly hurt yourself in order to strengthen your child, rather, when you have something minor, such as a paper cut, it is better to allow it to heal on its own."

Hermione tilted her head in thought at the things the woman was saying, nodding in understanding. It was definitely information that she would be looking more into and researching once she got the chance to do so. She bounced all the new information around in her mind as Catherine went to work with healing charms, examining differences that she had heard from talking to other pregnant women over the years. It was a rather different concept than what Hermione herself had really thought of before. Though it did make sense that, much like building a body's immune system which would strengthen an individual's health and lessen the chances of some serious illnesses, building a child's magical "immune system" through something as basic as the magic that was in her blood, flowing through her and the child…well it actually did make a good bit of sense to Hermione.

"Alright, Miss Granger, I believe we are finished with the healing aspect of this visit," Catherine said softly nearly an hour and a half later. "You might be slightly uncomfortable for a few days until your body readjusts to not being injured. Most people will liken the discomfort to dull aches in the areas which have been recently healed. If you find yourself having these aches, I recommend a very small amount of pain potion diluted in either tea or pumpkin juice. I highly advise against taking too large or undiluted doses as it is possible for the child to become addicted to the potion even while within the womb. Since we are on the subject, I would like to run a charm over the child, similar to the diagnostic one I used earlier on you. I do not suspect the child has any injuries, no need to fret, Miss Granger," the witch stated when she saw the young witches eyes widen in worry; "I simply wish to give you a more accurate idea as to where you are in your pregnancy. That will allow you to plan on future prenatal visits as well as prepare everything that must be done prior to birth."

With a sigh in relief and a quick nod, Hermione watched the woman's wand make more intricate designs, this time just over her abdomen. She felt her nerves rise again at the prospect of what she might be told. Taking a slow, deep breath, she glanced to Ginny and Molly who had been noticeably silent for the entire visit. Both women gave her encouraging smiles that she couldn't help but to return. Finally, after what seemed like another hour though in reality was only around fifteen minutes, Catherine moved once again to her desk, tapping her wand against a fresh piece of parchment. Again words spilled out of her wand tip, filling the parchment completely. Catherine sat behind her desk studying the words for a few minutes prior to looking back up at Hermione. With a small smile, she flicked her wand, returning the medical gown back to the original clothes that she had worn in and motioned for her to take a seat.

As soon as the younger witch was seated, the healer began to speak once more, "You currently seem to be at the end of your fifteenth week, Miss Granger. The child is growing normally though and is very healthy. Since your body is now healed of the extensive injuries, I suspect you will start to notice more of the changes that occur with your body from here on out. Have you any questions at this time?"

"I'm still quite confused as to how I'm three and a half months pregnant and didn't manage to notice a thing, even after Ginny had told me, should I not have, I don't know, noticed _something_ different with me?"

"Had you been wholly healthy both physically and mentally, I'd have been fairly surprised had you not noticed at least a few subtle changes in your body. However, considering that you had not had your cycle in six, nearly seven months, in your condition there was hardly any way for you to notice that was different. You had lost a fairly large amount of weight and had only just started to regain it when, had you been at full health, you'd have begun noticing extra weight rather than weight coming back. So yes and no, to your question Miss Granger," Catherine explained carefully.

Hermione nodded, accepting the logic that the other woman stated. "Alright, aside from the diluted pain potion for the aches, is there anything else that you would recommend?"

"Yes," Catherine said, pulling out a sheet of parchment and then a quill from her drawer, writing as she spoke. "As you are about to begin your sixteenth week, I would recommend that you return for your next prenatal visit in four weeks. That will bring us to your twentieth week and the halfway mark of your pregnancy. Also, taking the prenatal vitamin supplement is highly advised for your baby's nutritional needs; however, it is not required. Finally, you have passed the first trimester of your pregnancy, so the riskiest part of the pregnancy has passed. I would recommend that you keep a steady exercise routine, even if it is little more than a nice walk a few times a week. This will make both your delivery and your recovery easier on you. Again, it is not required, however, it is highly recommended."

Hermione smiled graciously and nodded, "Thank you, Healer Catherine, for taking time for me today as well as explaining things as you went along. I really do appreciate it."

"You are very welcome," Catherine replied with a warm smile. She handed Hermione the piece of parchment she had been writing on, "Here is the information that we just spoke on, also, Ginny knows how to reach me if you have a question that she cannot answer for you."

Hermione accepted the parchment with a soft "thank you", folding it neatly and putting it into her pocket before turning to the other two witches in the room, "Ready to go?"

They stood as she approached, both women offering their farewells to the Healer, before retreating back through the lobby and into the cool outdoor air. Hermione shivered and wrapped herself more snuggly into her coat. "So what now?"

"Well, we only have about a half an hour before we have to meet the others for lunch. Would you just like to go there and maybe get tea or something while we wait for them?" Ginny offered.

"Oh my, I didn't realize it had taken that long I suppose," Hermione tilted her head, "would you mind horribly if we went to the bookstore first? I would like to get a few books on the things Healer Catherine spoke about and a few other related books before the other girls get here, if that's alright?"

"That sounds like a plan to me," Ginny shrugged.

Later that night, Hermione found herself back at her own flat, unwilling, just yet anyway, to tell Harry or Ron of the previous night's or that morning's revelations. She would, in time, just not quite yet. She curled up on her couch with her favorite fuzzy blanket and one of the new books she'd bought earlier that day. She couldn't help but find it absolutely astounding, and a little intimidating if she was to be honest, all the changes that had been happening within her own body without her even realizing it.

She set the book down on the table and leaned back against the couch with a sigh. It was one of the many times when she really noticed how much she missed Crookshanks. That cat had been a solace, so to speak, when things were rough. Maybe come morning, she would make her way down to Diagon Alley and see if any new familiar would catch her heart. At very least finding a new familiar would make the time spent at her flat seem less lonely. With another soft sigh, Hermione lifted her book from the table and began reading once more, though this time, it was only about ten minutes before she had read herself to sleep.

*******Author's Note*****:**_**I just wanted to, I guess point out a few train of thoughts here. I don't plan on rushing this story through, this chapter might go a little slow, but the information will carry on into later chapters. Oh, also, Miss Hermione is definitely not out of the woods yet. Anyway, please read and review. Tell me what you think. If you've got a few ideas that you think would work in here, please let me know. I'm always open to ideas **____**. Other than that, I will be trying to get the next chapter out as soon as I can! Thanks for reading!**_


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